Catalyst: Cleansed
by OptimalAlpha
Summary: Their world was torn by the rift of war, yet the heroine hadn't even traveled five miles from the pit she considered home. A prisoner catches her eye, and she knows she shouldn't... But what danger is he, broken and bleeding? With a world shadowed in supposed danger, she seeks answers from the very same species that wishes to destroy her own. OCxWheeljack AU
1. Chapter 1

**OptimalAlpha:** So, because plot bunnies are evil and they tend to corrupt me accordingly, I'm going to be starting a new story arc that runs in with my overall "Catalyst" series. You don't have to have read "Placidity" before reading this one, but I think it would probably help later down the road to understand some stuff if you did if you ended up liking this one, too. I've come to realize that maybe the reason why some people aren't reading Placidity is because the chapters are so long, so I'm going to start breaking down this one into much shorter pieces and see how that goes. I'm also going to be introducing an entirely different main pairing, though some other small ones might be mentioned down the line. Furthermore, I'm not giving away who the mystery bot is in this story straight off-you'll have to try and guess that for your self-but he is an original franchise character and not an OC. ;3 Hope you enjoy!

Read and Review, Please!

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**Cleansed, Chapter 1**

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It was a night like any other—at least, that's what Joanna told herself as she gazed down upon at least one hundred other spectators. The room was filled with loud cries of excitement. But even with her front row seat at the top of the arena, she barely glanced towards the main event just below. Sitting at the entrance with the bid box was one of the only obligations she had when it came to the family business.

"It looks like he's putting up a good show tonight," her friend and coworker, Thomas, supplied.

"Yeah," she agreed with an expressionless voice.

"I didn't think he'd make it through the final five, but I guess after tonight he's going to be a regular, huh?"

"You should really learn to be a better judge of character if you honestly thought he wouldn't make it through."

"You say that, but you've never really _watched_ any of his matches."

Joanna turned to the slightly younger teen and narrowed her gaze.

"That might be true, but when he first came here, I was the one who looked into his eyes and knew what his fate would be," she breathed. "There's a very strong spirit inside him. Inner strength ultimately determines who lives and who dies in this pit."

"You sound like your dad," Thomas grinned. "All of this spiritual stuff—you make it sound natural. The two of you simply _call_ it judging someone's character, but I get the feeling that there's a lot more behind it."

Suddenly, the room was filled with mixed cries of anger and triumph rising unbearably so; she recognized it as the roll of thunder before the final strike. Similar to those watching outside of the wooden box, Thomas stood up to see the finale. When Joanna didn't join him, an odd glance was tossed her way.

"Don't you want to see him finish...?" The brunette frowned. "He's your favorite, isn't he?"

Wordlessly, Joanna walked outside of the booth to make her way into the audience. With her arms folded across her chest, she stared down into the filthy arena. The pit was dug into the ground with entrances on four sides leading into even deeper dungeons below. Eleven mangled bodies littered the floor of a hallowed ring just beneath the round benches above. Red blood was splattered in all directions. Death had been dealt in more than one clever way—limbs littered here and there, carcasses ripped in half, and human heads resolved to filthy, smashed craters.

Only one man remained—in the hands of another, who was... not so human.

The creature's hands were large enough to wrap around the width of the man's arms, and with a cheer of encouragement from the audience, a sickening rip was heard. A shreik of pure agony filled the stands as the prey was slowly relieved of his appendages. Then, as the fragile body fell to the floor, it all ended with a loud smash as a heavy foot fell atop the man's head. In that instant, several others stood up out of their seats and the loudest roar so far consumed the pit.

Any pair of untrained, innocent eyes would have turned away, but Joanna looked on expectantly through it all. In the back of her mind, she saw the bloody wrath as it unfolded before her, but she also decided to seek the predator's frozen gaze just behind the cruel act.

The victor didn't choose to bask in the momentary glory, like she recalled with the reaction of so many before. Instead, he stood with his head bowed for a few brief seconds before silently turning to the now-open exit he'd originally entered by. With a matching expression, her eyes followed him inch by inch; some might of thought her crazy, but she tried to establish a connection in just that simple stare while he continued on his way.

Then, as he walked through the thick, metal gate and the door slammed closed just behind, he finally gazed back. There was no coincidence. For at least ten seconds his glowing, ice blue eyes shot out at her directly, never wavering to anyone else among the crowd. Even without words, she could read what was written in that moment:

_"Come find me."_

And as good as Joanna was with interpreting the mind of another, she couldn't tell whether or not the invitation was a challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

**OptimalAlpha: **I wanted to give a super special thanks to TC Stark for reviewing the last chap; she's always wonderful with my stories like that, so thank you! :3 Here's chapter two; I'm going to try to keep updating the new story at least once every day until I go back to school on the 13th. Also, I've given away a big hint to who the bot might be in this chap, but I'm still a little wishy-washy on who I've narrowed it down to. The bot I originally had in mind is starting to pull a little bit away from me to be replaced by another. You'll just have to wait and see if it's who you think it is. XD Once again, thanks TC! :)

Read and Review, Please!

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**Cleansed, Chapter 2**

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Sneaking by the patrols for the cell block was just about as easy as any other part of Joanna's daily routine; all she had to do was pour a bit of sleeping sediment into the guards' evening pot of coffee. No one suspected a thing and it wasn't like the men on duty didn't normally fall asleep anyway. When she was sure that the prisoners were the only ones watching, she descended a long case of stairs and walked by several large, metal cages. At least a hundred pairs of eyes turned to glance her way, but she didn't bother looking back. The young woman knew that the male she sought would be near the very of end of the lowest level—where the largest and most dangerous specimens were kept.

So many unforeseen creatures and humans alike had been stashed away in the dungeon of her family's ancient vault. Not many could ever dream of the horrors that she passed without even a blink.

Joanna sensed that she was in the right spot before she even set eyes on her favorite. He was kept far away from the other inmates and a dim light hung diagonal from his cell, just over her head. The cage was more spacious than the cell he'd owned before claiming victory today—big enough that he could get up from his metal bench of a bed to pace back and forth. Instead of standing directly before him, she chose to observe the creature just out of sight.

The male in question was a Cybertronian—a sentient robot from a distant planet. There were numerous other species within the cell block, but this race in particular was the crowd favorite when it came to a fight to the death. Everyone loved _and_ loathed these killing machines inside the arena. Just beyond the walls of this "sanctuary" the Earth had been forfeited to the much larger race and humans were hunted both day and night. In the end, no matter how long they lasted in the pit, everyone longed to see a mech's lifeblood spilt. How strange the world must look through the eyes of this Cybertronian, to have the tides turned in the opposite direction.

She didn't have a name for him; when he was first dragged into the pit, he'd never provided one. Most spectators had taken to calling him "Swords." During a surprise match with equipment strung up around the walls of the arena, he'd favored two large katanas. The match made record time and he'd also managed to carve up one of the guards before being incapacitated. It was safe to say that, signature item or no, he wasn't going to get his hands on another blade for a long time.

With an expressionless face, Joanna watched as the mech continued to sit with his back to her. Even with mass displacement, he dwarfed her easily; he had to be just a few inches shy of seven feet tall and his form was much more bulky than any human male's. For at least five minutes she stood there, staring. He intrigued her to no end.

Then, Joanna saw the mech turn his head over his shoulder just slightly.

"Weren't you ever taught that it's rude to come in unannounced?"

Wordlessly, Joanna stepped to the front of the cage, but stood back far enough that the mech couldn't reach her through the metal bars. She watched as his luminous eyes passed slowly over her form.

"I thought I recognized you," he spoke, features narrowing. "You were there when I came out of stasis, right after I was captured. I suppose it wouldn't be dumb to assume that you're an important figure here, hmm?"

Joanna wasn't one for conversation, but she realized that if she didn't offer information to him, she probably wouldn't get much in return. More than anything, she wanted to know so much more about the strange mech and what was happening in the outside world.

"My family owns this business."

"_Business_...? That's what you call it?" He scoffed. "I wouldn't have ever guessed that there were gladiatorial matched on Earth, like there used to be on Cybertron."

"It's a dead tradition. No one's fought in a _real_ arena in centuries. My dad's just trying to bring it back for the money."

"You don't consider _this_ to be a real arena?"

She didn't reply, only stared on with an icy gaze. When he realized the conversation wouldn't carry, he changed the subject.

"Your creator is the one in charge?" He narrowed his eyes even more. "That must be a role to live up to."

Again, she said nothing.

Originally, she'd sensed such a calm spirit in the individual before her, but when his eerie blue eyes finally met her grey ones, a chill ran up her spine. Joanna couldn't tell what the mech's original paint-job had looked like, what with dirt, grime, and soot practically caked onto his armor. A deeper part of Joanna would have given anything to gaze upon the mech as he was meant to be seen.

"Well...?" He prompted impatiently. "When I was leaving the fight, I'd sensed that you wanted to ask me something. If there is anything, say it quickly. I'm becoming... _impatient_."

Before the consequences even flitted across her mind, she found herself stepping closer to the cage. Tight fingers soon wrapped around a metal bar and she gazed out at him with curious eyes.

"What's going on out there...?"

The mech tossed a skeptical expression her way.

"Up in the pit...? You would know more than I do."

"No," she shook her head, "I mean... beyond here—the rest of the world outside of this place. You were traveling when they caught you."

"I was, but I didn't exactly make it to where I was going, did I?"

"All I ever hear is how titans like you are waging a war. They say that there are fewer of us humans than there have ever been. Maybe it _is_ common knowledge, but I wanted to talk with you—someone who might have a second side to the story—since I can't exactly stick my head too far outside to see for myself."

For a moment, he looked down at his large hands, rubbing them back and forth between one another before glancing back at her again.

"Second opinion or not, it would be lying to tell you any different," he nodded his head slowly. "There is still some resistance from human forces, but not much. In a way, the hold you have here really surprises me. The only thing keeping you safe is the weird weather conditions."

"Weird" was putting it lightly. Outside, a continuous snow storm raged day and night and the temperature was lucky to pick up to twenty-two degrees below zero.

"How so...?"

"Same reason as you. Three or four hours out there in the ice wouldn't be the kindest of punishments for us," he conceded. "I suppose that's one of the reasons why you haven't left this place to find answers."

"One reason... of many."

"You've been here all your life then," he deduced. "This war is older than you could ever be."

"Everything I know is here," the female admitted, though with a prideful glare. "But there are... _others_ out there?"

"Humans?"

Joanna nodded her head.

"Yeah... Yeah, there are, but most of the ones left alive are only permitted to stay that way under Megatron's watch."

"Megatron"—a name she'd heard so much and still knew so little about. Before she even realized it, she was lost in thought. As her mind lingered over the elements set before her, Joanna hardly noticed when the mech stood up from his seat and walked right up to her. She jerked herself away from the front of the cell a moment later than what would have taken him the time to reach out and easily end her life.

"What's your name?" he questioned, eyes still filled with something unknown.

"What's _yours_?" She narrowed her gaze.

His simple reply was a deep laugh that caused a second surge of hot pricks to travel up her spine.

"Stubborn, aren't cha?" He grinned half-heartedly. "If you want to leave, then do it. It's not like you have anyone stopping you."

"You think you know everything... But there's more than one type of prisoner living here."


	3. Chapter 3

**OptimalAlpha:**Thanks to all who have favorited, followed, and reviewed so far! Originally, I was going to leave it a mystery as to who the bot was, but TC Stark has already guessed it, so yeah, the mech in question is Wheeljack (mostly Prime version with some G1 influence). Surprise, surprise! XD Even still, I probably won't list Wheeljack in the story summary until later on. Originally, I was going to make this story about Drift (from IDW), but TFP Wheeljack has so much in common with him when it comes to weapons and by the end of the second chapter I realized that the personality I was writing with was a bit too cocky to be Drift. Who knows, maybe I'll do a different arc for Drift later? XD Until then...

Read and Review, Please and Thanks!

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**Cleansed, Chapter 3**

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He sat there for what seemed like hours, just staring at the palms of his hands. Red blood dripped from his long fingers like water from a faucet.

Joanna hadn't watched the fight, but by the look in the mech's eyes she could tell that he hadn't gained anywhere near as much enjoyment as the crowd had. It was his fifth day as a regular fighter and her second time seeing him in secret. She'd told herself that she wouldn't ever brave the dungeons in his favor again, but a strange feeling had drawn her down into the deep vault.

"You really shouldn't blame yourself," Joanna finally voiced from the opposite wall, where she sat. "They weren't all that human anyway."

Slowly, his head lifted with a powerful glare and it was like red-hot coals were being pressed to her skin.

"How can you even say something like that...?" He ex-vented deeply. "Not a week ago, you wanted to know if there were any surviving humans in the outside world. But, in here, you don't even blink at the ones I tear apart—four today, seven yesterday, three the day before then..."

"What would you have me do...?" She questioned with a shrug. "Cry myself to sleep?"

"For a human, something like that would have to due, I guess," he snarled.

"Crying just _suggest_ that someone is suffering emotionally. How anyone could even shed a tear for a rapist or cannibal though, I wouldn't know."

His gaze grew calm, but the anger was replaced by confusion.

"The warden—my dad—usually collects _'specimens'_ for the main entertainment himself, but humans are just brought in through investment," she explained. "You and few of the others might be good company, but every human is here for a reason. Even with things running up shit creek on the other side of the world, people like a little bit of order amongst their numbers. Peace-keepers of a sort try to step in and make sure that the remnants of society stay intact. There isn't a court for trails anymore and, unfortunately, you could consider this prison."

"You can't tell me that every human that's suffered in here has deserved it."

"Maybe not," she shrugged her shoulders, "but most of them did, and I'm no judge. After all, if it hadn't been them, it would have been you."

For a moment, silence filled the space between them. She sensed that he still didn't agree with her entirely, but at least she'd helped to place his mind a little more at ease. When Joanna's eyes traced over the mech's blood-soaked frame a second time, she started to slip off her thin jacket.

"Come here," she beckoned from the side of the cage.

Again, she was placing herself in danger to be near him.

When they were just inches apart, she pushed the jacket through the metal bars and into his hands.

"Use that to clean off before the blood dries," she breathed. "They won't let you bathe while you're here, unless they think it's absolutely necessary."

At first, she had the impression that the mech was going to grab her arm and jerk her into the heavy bars, but he simply flinched before accepting the small peace-offering.

"Thanks," he ex-vented with a slight sense of surprise.

She stepped away from the cell as the mech busied himself with wiping his hands and chest.

"I still didn't catch your name," he finally spoke in his normal tone.

"And I don't know _yours_, either," she shrugged.

The reminiscence of a smile flitted across his face as he smirked.

"I might tell you one day... _after_ you've told me yours."

For some reason, a similar grin touched Joanna's lips as well. Maybe he didn't realize that she wasn't one to break down so easily.

As the mech finished cleaning himself the best he could, Joanna glanced elsewhere. As she turned forward again, she realized that he was staring at her like she was an ant.

"You know, you're really short," he eventually commented. "I mean, where I come from, most females are _supposed_ to be small... but you're just _tiny_."

If she didn't get similar wise cracks all the time, Joanna would've probably taken the comment as an insult. But, when you weren't even an inch over five feet tall, it was to be expected. She barely met the middle of the mech's chest plates while standing.

"Know what else...?" He smirked again. "I think that sort of fits. From now on, I'll just call you Tiny."

"Yeah...?" A slight case of irritation started to set in. "Well, maybe I'll call _you_ Rustbucket!"

Without warning, the biggest smile covered the mech's facials and all Joanna could do was stand there. She was starting to realize something: he really liked to get her riled up for no reason at all. But, within another moment or so, the smile was gone and he managed to pull her into a serious stare.

"Listen, I'm not really sure what my chances are of getting out of here, and I don't really know why you're here either... but you'd be doing me a favor if you'd answer a few questions I have."

"...What do you want to know?"

"Well, first... Are there any other Cybertronians down here, besides me?"

It took her a moment to think it over.

"I don't think so. Not right now at least," she shook her head. "There were three a few months back, but... I'm sure you can figure out what happened to them."

"Were any of them autobots?"

The terminology he used confused her.

"Uhhh...?"

"They should've all been wearing an insignia. Did you catch if one of them wore red?"

Again, Joanna racked her mind for answers. The problem was, whenever she watched the last three fight, they were as filthy as the mech before her.

"I... I'm not really sure."

"What about the color of their optics? Did any of them have blue eyes?"

"... I think one of them might've had blue eyes."

The mech fisted the metal bars of the cage, while drilling her for more answers.

"What did he look like?"

"Umm," she paused, "maybe the same height as you or a little shorter... A sleek body, built more for speed than strength."

Instantly, his expression fell, but just slightly.

"...Oh," he ex-vented. "Well, that's... that's good."

Maybe it wasn't her place to ask, but...

"Why? Are you looking for someone?"

"... You could say that," he replied after a moment. "On a different note, how do I fight my way out of here?"

Just as an answer was about to part from her lips, Joanna heard a set of footsteps heading towards their direction from up the hallway. Instantly, her heart started to race. If one of the guards caught her, there was going to be a lot of questions to answer. Without much warning at all, she found herself frozen in place. The footsteps kept coming closer and closer until a light alto unexpectedly called out to her in specific.

"Hey, Jo, are you down here?!"

Almost immediately, her fear turned into rage. Joanna gritted her teeth as her blood started to boil. She could place that voice anywhere.

"I'm sorry," she turned to the front of the cage, "but I've got to go. I'll come back tomorrow if I can."

Before she set off at a fast pace down the hall, one final glance revealed the fact that she wasn't the only one annoyed by the interruption. Grey eyes met blue "optics" and a surge of emotion filled her heart.


	4. Chapter 4

**OptimalAlpha****: **Here's chapter 4. Sorry it took a little while to get it out. I was originally planning to post this yesterday, but my internet was out because of all the crazy snowstorms and stuff. This one is pretty short, but I have another chapter ready to publish later tonight, too. Thanks to all who have favorited/followed so far! And double thanks to TC Stark for always reviewing. :3

Read and Review, Please and Thanks!

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**Cleansed, Chapter 4**

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"What's got you so interested in that freak?"

He just wouldn't drop it, no matter how many times she told him to.

"Before he came here, Joanna, you couldn't have cared less about who lived and who died. What's so _different_ about him?"

"It's none of your business," Joanna frowned. "I wouldn't expect you to understand in the first place. Back off, Thomas."

It had been one hell of a night. After being practically chased out of the cell block by the very same man, Joanna had been interrogated for two hours about why she'd been among the prisoners in the first place. She'd tried to brush off the questions as much as she could, but there was no hiding the fact that the Cybertronian was the only prisoner held at the last level of the vault. Thomas had already known that she favored the mech, so there weren't too many pieces that needed to be put together before he could start making accusations.

"Listen, Joanna," he started up again, "I wouldn't be bothering you so much if I didn't care about you."

"Go away, Thomas."

She was supposed to have already been at work, making a schedule for all of the guards for the next two weeks. Likewise, he was supposed to have already ventured out with a hunting party into the snowy abyss beyond the caves. Several moments passed while he tailed her, until finally Thomas grabbed her by the arm and jerked her much smaller form towards his. She shot out a hand to slap the stupid teenager upside the head, but he caught the small palm before impact. Her nerves ate away at the pit of her stomach as Thomas released her arm and caressed the captured hand instead.

"Jo, I mean it," he breathed as a finger ghosted over the side of her face. "I care _a lot_ about you..."

"Don't go there. We've been there before and you know how it turned out."

"Joanna, going down there isn't safe," he continued, clasping her hand more firmly in his own. "It's not just him. If _any_ of them ever got their hands on you, you'd be dead in seconds. No one would be there to help you. You're just... you're just too small to be running around on your own, especially in a dangerous place like that."

Her blood started to boil anew. She'd heard this a thousand times over. Despite popular belief, she wasn't helpless.

Instantly, she ripped herself away from him and started walking towards the arena once more.

"I can take care of myself just fine," she frowned. "I don't need your help."

"If it had been anyone else who caught you, you'd be in deep shit right now."

"I wouldn't have been caught in the first place if I didn't have a stalker."

Thomas wouldn't have known where she'd been if he wasn't keeping tabs beforehand.

"You know what?" He scowled. "Whatever. I don't really care anymore. Whatever's going on between you and the machine will end soon enough. I give him two more weeks before he busts down."

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Thomas' words echoed in her mind that evening when, with great remorse, Joanna forced herself to step out into the crowd and watch the daily blood bath. She already knew that six more humans would face the Cybertronian and, with their poor skill, meet death, but for some reason her intuition spoke of other things to soon come.

With an expressionless face, Joanna watched as the mech finally entered the arena from one of the metal gates below. Instantly, the crowd broke out into wild cries, thirsty for the fight that would soon come. But, despite all of the supposed violence hanging heavy in the air, Joanna could only picture the look upon the mech's face when she'd left him the previous night. She hadn't thought upon it too greatly, but the mech in question had such acute facial features, which gave him a rugged tone. One thing that really grabbed her attention was the scars that littered his bottom lip—evidence that he'd seen more battle in his life than this pit could promise. But, within the arena, the mech wore a face-guard to cover these same defining characteristics.

As Swords walked forward and stopped near the center of the pit, she watched as he silently scanned the crowd. When his attention turned her way, Joanna bit her lip as she raised her hand just slightly in a form of acknowledgement. His optics rested on her for the longest time before he turned his attention forward once more.

It was another few moments before the announcer stood atop the elevated platform and said that the match would begin when the second gate opened—the first clue that something wasn't right. If Swords was expected to fight humans, then they would've already released the other competitors. She fisted her hands in frustration. In the back of her mind, Joanna knew what would be released from the gate. Still, she didn't want to accept it.

Her heart leaped into her throat when the metal doorway finally parted and a creature the size of a small dog walked out into the pit. At first glance, one would've never thought that this creature would be dangerous, because it wasn't—for a human. It scurried forward for a moment, its metal armor shining in the light and violet eyes scanning the area, until it finally caught sight of the mech standing not even thirty feet away. The Cybertronian in question was frozen; his eyes were wide as he probably questioned whether or not the small beast was real.

All around, she heard people bursting out into fits of laughter.

"Look at him," an older man commented. "He's scared stiff."

A scowl found its way to her face as she raced down the scaffolding to reach the closest seats to the pit.

"Move!" Joanna cried as loud as she could. "You have to move!"

The second she said this, the mech managed to snap out of his stupor. Coincidentally, this was the same time that the little machine started to make a charge for the Cybertronian. A loud noise, like the sound of a saw blade, filled the stands as the creature opened its mouth, revealing hundreds of gyrating, razor-sharp teeth. Suddenly, the beast flew at the mech, but she caught her breath when Swords shot out and captured the creature in his hands. A heavy fist lit into the beast repeatedly, beating a large hole into the side of its small head. When a broken body finally fell to the floor, her attention turned once more to the opposite gate. Two more replicants scurried across the pit and in the distance she could see several other pairs of eyes shining in the darkness.

"Watch out, there's more!"

Within seconds, the mech was in the middle of crushing his second opponent, but the third latched onto his leg with its sharp teeth. Metal was ground away from his body as the creature slowly ate its way up his form.

She couldn't just sit and watch anymore. Joanna ran towards the announcer and barely stopped herself from putting him in a death grip.

"What IS this?" She demanded. "He shouldn't have been scheduled to fight these things for at least three more months! Why isn't he armed?!"

"Listen, Miss Fabris," he started as calmly as he could, "I don't make the lineup or the terms of battle. You need to take that up with someone else."

When she turned around again she was surprised to find that there were two more pieces of scrap metal lying on the ground, but that Swords was fighting—and losing—against five replacements. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do and her eyes finally turned to one of the guards behind the announcer. She shot out as fast as she could and managed to pull a long sword from the hilt at the man's side. The consequences barely flitted through her mind as Joanna raced towards the pit, the guard chasing just behind.

"Hey, Rustbucket!" She called a name she knew he would recognize. "Catch!"

The second that the sword flew from her hand into the arena, she was jerked backwards by a strong grip. Joanna wasn't given the chance to watch the rest of the fight as she was guided away from the stands by two large men. She prayed that the weapon would be enough to help the Cybertronian keep his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**OptimalAlpha****: **As promised, two chapters in one night. Hopefully I'll have one sometime tomorrow as well. Also, if anyone out there is a girl and goes by "Jo," please don't take it personally-what I've written about that particular nickname in this chapter. XD I'm not against it or anything; it's just an easy way to create dialog and it pertains to the opinion (I stress this word) of an OC. But anyway... Thanks for reading!

R&R, Please and Thanks!

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**Cleansed, Chapter 5**

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Word traveled fast about what Joanna had done in her family's arena, both within the caves and throughout the rest of the frozen wasteland. If it had been anyone else she'd helped—anyone besides a Cybertronian—then it would've been brushed off within a couple of hours. Instead, she found herself to be the subject of everyone's whispered gossip. For what it was worth though, Joanna didn't really give a damn about what others thought of her. Now at the age of twenty, she'd already been an outcast with most of the community since she was sixteen. Not even her father cared to be in the same room as her and he brushed off the matter at hand with a mild warning. There wasn't much more she could do to ruin her public image in the first place.

Late that night, she learned that the Cybertronian still lived, and she braved the halls of the vault for what she promised would be the very last time. When her eyes drifted over his broken frame, her heart sank deep. He looked to be asleep as he lay upon his metal bed, until his optics finally opened and he glanced in her direction.

"Hey, Tiny," he croaked with a smirk tugging at his lips. "Isn't it a little late for visitors?"

As Joanna stepped close to the bars of the cage, she was able to examine his body more closely. There were deep tears in his armor—evidence of how the creatures had tried to eat him alive—along with new dents and scuffs. Dried fluid in a shade of deep blue indicated where his bleeding had halted not that long ago.

"I thought you would've learned by now that I only visit when it's convenient for _me_, not you," she smiled back. "That fight wasn't very fair. How are you holding up?"

"I'll be alright," he waved a hand dismissively. "I have one hell of an internal repair system."

"Well, I bet it won't work on fumes."

Silently, Joanna pressed a large cube filled with blue liquid through the bars of the cage.

The prisoners were only fed once a day and it was barely enough to keep them going. She'd paid off one of the guards for the large dose of fuel.

Instantly, his blue optics lit up.

"How did you-"

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head. "Drink up."

He stood from the metal slab and accepted the gift. Within a few seconds he downed half the cube with desperate gulps, but slowed to sips when his vents kicked in, cycling hot air. After a moment, he looked to her with a straight gaze.

"Thank you, Jo."

The nickname instantly caught her attention. He must have picked it up the night before, when Thomas had been snooping.

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry. I figured-"

"It's a nickname," she explained. "One I don't appreciate. It sounds like a man's name. I'm not a man."

"No," he smiled before taking another sip, "definitely not."

She couldn't help but blush just slightly from the leer he was giving her at that moment. When he took another deep gulp and a small drop of blue liquid slid down his chin and along the broad column of his neck, Joanna found that she was the one staring this time. Despite the fact that she'd been battling with her attraction towards the large mech for a while now, the young woman blamed her overactive libido for the response.

"I uhhhh..." He finally spoke up. "I feel like I should tell you something."

"Alright," she nodded her head.

"When you came to see me, yesterday and the time before that... I uhhhh... I thought about slammin' your head into this cage and then taking you hostage."

All she could do was blink. She'd known that there had been some extreme hostilities, but he was a bit blunt.

"After what you did today, I told myself that I'd come clean... if you showed up again."

"I'm not mad, if that what's what you were expecting."

"Well, that's good... but I guess what I'm tryin' to say is that you don't have to worry about that anymore. I'm not going to hurt cha," he smirked. "That kind of ruins my only plan of getting out of here though."

Then it was Joanna's turn to smirk.

"That plan wouldn't have worked in the first place," she grinned half-heartedly.

"But you said-"

"My dad is in charge here, yeah," Joanna nodded, "but he's not what he used to be. We _used_ to be close, but you could say that I didn't exactly turn out the way he wanted me to. Trust me, my dad wouldn't have given a damn about what you would have done to me."

He searched her eyes for a moment, as though to try and determine whether she was speaking out of self pity.

"You're not lying," he finally frowned.

"No, I'm not," she frowned as well. "He was an honorable man at one time, but the world slowly ate away at him. Instead of settling on someone else's words, he always chose to judge every person with his own eyes. I want to be like that," she explained. "That's why I don't see you the same way the others do. The war outside hasn't reached this far just yet, so all I have to judge your people by is what others tell me. I figure not all of you can be as bad as they say."

"Well, well," he grinned, "one decent circuit out of the whole damn grid." His empty hand wrapped around a metal bar. "The question is: are you going to help me _find_ a way to get out of here?"

This was the one subject that Joanna had hoped to avoid.

"I would, but I don't think there _is_ a way for you to leave."

His expression fell, just like she knew it would.

"Why are you so sure?"

"I don't have any authority here," she shrugged her shoulders. "Besides, even if I managed to swipe the key for your cell, they'd put you out in seconds."

With a single digit, she pointed towards the thick, silver band that had been drilled into the base of his neck.

"They probably didn't tell you, but that collar has a strong dose of poison in it—one that _will_ work on your kind. There's a code that administers the injection and then a secondary procedure, too. If you attempt to remove the collar, the injection process will start automatically. My dad is the only one who knows the safety override codes."

"So you're _not_ going to help me," he scowled.

"I didn't say that," she quipped, eyes downcast. "I just don't know what to do right now. I'm going to see if I can keep bribing the guards to keep bringing you larger doses fuel."

"There's only so much energon can do," he explained, lips contorted into a deep frown. "I'm not taking their slag, Tiny. They'll have to pull me from this cell if they want me to fight tomorrow."

"No, you _have_ to fight," she narrowed her eyes. "You _have_ to... or they will kill you. It'll only take the press of a few buttons. Do you honestly think they care?"

He said nothing, but took a long drink from his container. She sensed a deep surge of anger rising up inside of him. When the last drop of fuel touched his lips, he gave a rough throw and the glass cube shattered into a hundreds pieces along the floor. It barely drew a reaction from Joanna.

"I can't come here anymore after tonight," she told him with as straight of a face as she could. "They know something's up."

"You're trying to save face, I get it. Better me and than you."

"_No_," she shook her head. "I _am_ going to help you. I will help you get out of here, I promise. You've just got to hang in until I find a way."

His features softened once more, but just slightly.

"Don't die," she stressed a second time.

"Easy enough for you to say, sweetheart."

* * *

"If I slip you some cash, what are the odds that you can rig this fight?"

"Why would you want-"

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head. "Please, can you do it...?"

On any other occasion, Joanna would have known better than to try and bribe one of her father's assistants, but the man who stood before her was dependable. His name was Marcus and he'd always been like an uncle to her. Likewise, he was probably the only person who still genuinely cared about what she did with her life. When it came to the family business, he and two others determined the fights for each day. If there was anyone she could depend upon, it was him.

"Why do you want this so bad, 'Anna?"

Joanna didn't like to lie to the only person she truly considered family, and there wasn't anything to tell besides the truth.

"Please, Marcus." She found that she didn't have the right words to explain. "He's a good guy."

"This won't be something easy to pull off after the first or second time. I need a reason."

"Why...?" Her eyes widened in almost disbelief. "I _know_ Thomas paid off one of your friends for today. My money is just as good."

"I don't _want_ your money, 'Anna," he replied with a frown. "I want you to give me a reason."

"He doesn't belong here, Marcus. If you could see what I see, then you'd know that, too."

The raven-haired man stood there for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes. Whatever he saw, it made his own gaze soften.

"You've never _asked_ me for help with anything before," he commented. "So, I suppose that's reason enough. I will help you, but only until I have a reason to stop."

He was really sticking his neck out for her.

"Thank you, Marcus." She couldn't help but rush him with an unexpected hug. "You'll see I'm right."

With a look of surprise, the tall man accepted the tight embrace.

"I hope so."


End file.
